


Mail Order

by sammysbangs



Series: Panty Kink [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dean in Panties, M/M, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 14:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammysbangs/pseuds/sammysbangs
Summary: Dean gets to enjoy his panty kink like never before. Panty kink overload you might say. But then Dean was never one for moderation.In the last story Dean had some solo time with his panty collection, and as he let his fantasies wander discovered that he might have feelings for Sam.I was going to write a story where he angsts, and they talk and work out their issues, but then skipped ahead to where they're already happily banging.





	Mail Order

Dean huffed and annoyed breath and threw himself down on the bed. 

The tragically magic fingerless bed, and looked once again around the motel room - orange and brown decor, suspicious stains on the already vomit coloured carpet, some kind of still life, and not a single thing to do. 

He’d been cooped up all day waiting for the courier delivery while Sam was out interviewing witnesses.

He was reduced to considering the redecorating options when the delivery guy finally knocked on the door.

He pulled the door open with a touch too much force, and greeted the nonplussed delivery guy a touch too brightly, but he could finally, finally get stuck into the Arkham Academy Codex, special delivered from Bobby, only copy in the world, yadda yadda.

Except as he tore the cardboard open he realised that the box he threw on the bed was far too big and far too light to contain only a medieval text.

Dean flipped the cardboard flap back up, but it was definitely addressed to Wedge Antilles. Hm.

The box seemed to be stuffed full of light violet tissue paper, and Dean reached in under hesitantly.

What he pulled out was silky and luxuriously cool. Dean unfolded it carefully.

The panties were a soft light green, with lace inserts at the side. Dean reached back in the box and pulled out another. These ones were white ruffled boy shorts, like in a French Maid outfit, and that image made him blush.

He imagined Sam shopping on the internet late at night while he was asleep. Did he think Dean would like these? Did it get him hot thinking about it?

Dean laid out the panties reverently on the bed, and dug into the box.

It was a very big box.

He pulled out some cotton panties next, a Batman logo on the front and a slight lace trim around the edges, and the thought that they were every day panties, something to slip on under his suit, was extra thrilling. 

Next some powder pink stockings, then another one, white and lace topped. 

A tiny red bikini, string everywhere, to be tied and untied. 

Dean imagined slipping into a pool in the heat of the midday sun, Sam pressing him against the wall, wet bangs falling into his face, his hands slipping under the strings of the wet red scraps of fabric, teasing that he might undo them…

Fuck. Dean adjusted himself to relieve some pressure. He didn’t even know how long he’d been hard.

Next he pulled out a black silk skirt, cool and weightless in his hand. 

And this, this he’s been wanting for so long.

He quickly stripped out of his clothes, and took the skirt to the mirror in the corner of the room.

He watched himself slip it up over his hips and pull up the zipper on the side.

The skirt hung low, tight over his slim hips, then flaring out a little, and ending indecently high. He turned around, and the skirt flipped and swayed with his movements. 

He went back to explore the rest of the box in his tiny black skirt. If he had a say in it he would never take it off again.

At the bottom of the box were heavier items. 

There was a beautiful pair of heels with straps across the ankle. A few toys. Some pots and tubes of what he figured were cosmetics.

He found one that was a soft light pink, and he smeared it on his lips in front of the mirror.

His reflection looked back, lips glossy like they were freshly kissed or freshly used, and his ears pinked.

There was something else, individually wrapped up, more stiff and heavy than the other clothes.

Dean unwrapped it carefully. 

It was a white teddy, corsetry boning built into the side. Low cut, but no cups. It would sit flat against a male chest, delicate straps over the shoulders, lace blended into silk, garter straps dangling from the bottom. He couldn’t stop running his fingers over the boning. It felt wonderful.

Dean was lightheaded with it. 

For so long he had just a few hidden treasures, fleeting secret times, and now he was dizzy with abundance.

He carefully slipped the skirt off and laid it out with the rest on the bed.

He reverently stepped into the teddy, and pulled it up into place. 

It laced up in the front, so he could pull the silk ties tighter, and fastened it low on his chest. 

The boning pressed tight around him from all sides. It was both soft as water and hard as steel around him, and it heightened his senses immeasurably.

Each breath he could feel the pressure, each slight movement he could feel the silk sliding.

He took out the white thigh high stockings, and carefully unrolled them up his legs, pointing his toes. The garter was a bitch to attach, but he managed, even in the back, and he went back to the mirror to look at himself again.

The teddy was high cut, and his slim hips were exposed above the lace top of the stockings. The delicate lace only made his chest look broader, the boning of the corsetry pulled in to create the illusion of a waist. His hard cock lay flat against his stomach, the silk damp and sticky at the tip.

This was immeasurably better than panties. He felt immersed and enveloped in silk.

Each step back to the bed he could feel the stockings rubbing against each other, the garters pulling and giving way as he moved. 

He lay down on the bed, and ran a hand up his leg, down his side, following the boning and the lace. He was oversensitised, each light touch lighting him up. 

He ran a hand over his silk covered cock, and briefly wondered if there was any nail polish in that box somewhere. Something pearly and pink he could wear while he touched himself like this, while he fingered himself, and the thought made his cock twitch.

He was so close, he’d been close for so very long, just another few strokes…

Which is when the door of the motel clicked open.

"Oh hey, did the books arrive?" Sam said cheerfully. And then something clattered as the big moose upset the furniture.

Dean could just imagine the picture he was making, laid out on the bed like an offering, lace and silk scattered around him. He tried to lift his head to look at Sam, but as he moved the garter pulled tighter, and he fell back on the bed with a moan, eyes unfocused with lust.

"Fuck, Dean," Sam said thickly, from much closer, and Dean felt his hand flutter over his body, down and down, and he obligingly spread his legs. "Fuck Dean, so fucking hot like this." 

Dean rolled onto his belly and scooted closer to the edge of the bed to Sam, and looked up into his lust dark eyes, before facing Sam's crotch, conveniently at eye level.

When he was turned on like this, beyond words and reason, this is what he always wanted most. He rubbed his face against Sam's cock through the rough denim, half hard and getting harder by the second. 

"Fuck, Dean," Sam said like there were no other words left in his giant vocabulary. He unbuttoned his jeans, Dean hindering more than helping, rubbing his face into the dark wiry hair, breathing deep, until Sam managed to pull his cock free. 

Sam had a gorgeous cock. It was huge, oh yeah, and that sure helped. It was also beautiful, or maybe it was the sweet little noises Sam made above him when he was getting sucked, the short gentle thrusts he made like he tried not to but couldn't help it, the adoration in his eyes every time Dean looked up.

He was far too turned on to take it slow, and took him down deep in one go, pushing so good at the back of his throat, more Sam, always wanting more of Sam. Dean pulled Sam's hip closer encouraging him to go faster and harder, and that was even better, relaxing his throat as it was getting fucked by that gorgeous cock.

Every time Dean shifted he could feel the garters pulling tighter, the cool silk rub against his hard cock. Every time he moved, rubbing against the bed, thrusting his lace covered ass up, Sam would gasp. Sam was getting off on looking at him, and Dean thought he could come just from this.

"Dean, I'm gonna," Sam gasped, and Dean pulled back just enough that he could taste it when Sam came and came, shuddering above him, held up by Dean's hand on his hip.

Sam collapsed onto the bed next to him, sweaty bangs falling in his face, and drew Dean into his arms.

"So fucking hot like this, Dean."

Dean was a pretty big guy, there weren't many people who could make him feel small and feminine in comparison, but Sam, oh yeah. With those huge hands, roaming around his body, tracing lace, those arms that could envelop him. 

Sam was still dressed, and Dean felt so exposed, in nothing scraps of lace, his naked skin rubbing against denim and flannel. 

He felt safe in Sam's arms like this. 

There were other times when Sam would look at him with this same soft adoration, but it itched at him, he couldn’t take it. He'd have to make a joke, push back, make it rough and fast instead. 

But here, he was laid out in Sam's arms, and Sam was placing soft kisses on his neck, his arms, down his body, like he could do this all day, worship Dean's body, like that was something they could do, this way.

Every small thing felt amazing: Sam's hot breath on his skin, the soft kisses down his lacy cleavage, the soft kitten licks on his nipples through silk. 

Dean had been turned on for so long, every touch was making him arch up into Sam. 

Sam kissed his way down Dean's body and nestled himself between Dean's open legs. He was looking up at Dean and placing gentle bites on the exposed skin between the lace top of his stockings and his teddy.

Dean's stocking foot rubbed against his back with a moan, and Sam smiled up at him. 

Sam slid a finger into the crease of his ass under his panties, gently circling his hole, and at the same time licking his hard cock flat against his belly under the silk, the tip already dark with precome.

Sam swirled his tongue, and pushed his finger inside, curling forward and making Dean see sparks over and over again.

Like going down on a girl, Dean thought, going down on her and fingering her at the same time, and then he was gone, arching off the bed, legs tightening around Sam, coming into the silk as Sam's tongue licked and swirled around him.

When he came to Sam was lying next to him, sweaty bangs falling into his eyes, and looking very pleased with himself.

If Dean leaned into him, burying his face in Sam’s neck, it was only so that he wouldn’t have to look at him. Or talk to him.

Sam’s hand slipped further down to grope his ass, and that Dean could get on board with.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Sam said into his hair. “I was going to give you things one by one, slowly. I guess I didn’t need to worry that you wouldn’t like them.”

“You didn’t get everything right,” Dean said because he couldn’t not shoot down the smug satisfaction in Sam’s voice, then instantly cursed himself.

Sam pulled away to look at Dean with his brows knit.

“What did I get wrong?”

What the hell.

“Cheerleader outfit,” Dean mumbled, but Sam only popped some happy dimples, and didn’t tease.

“Yeah, I can definitely make that happen.”

And if Dean stayed there with his head resting on Sam’s chest, and if he made himself comfortable in Sam’s arms and listened to him breathe, he could always pretend later that he would never do such a thing.


End file.
